Malala at the United Nations

Books and pens are our most powerful weapons.

The scene took place last week at the United Nations. In attendance were nearly 1000 young students from around the world at a specially convened Youth Assembly in the presence of UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon as well as Gordon Brown, Britain’s former Prime Minister.

The guest of honor was a young girl celebrating her 16th birthday. It was a day that the Taliban, many months ago, cruelly sought to prevent her from living to see. Her name is Malala Yousafzai, a Pakistani whose crime was that she wanted to go to school to get an education. So, last October, when she was on a school bus in Pakistan, a man with a gun got on and said, “Where is Malala?” He shot her in the face at point-blank range. The bullet entered near an eye and ended up near her left shoulder, but miraculously she survived.

The Taliban proudly claimed responsibility. They called her efforts pro-Western. They feared she might set an example to other women. Education is their enemy. They desperately wanted Malala dead. But Malala refused to be intimidated.

She emigrated to England, where doctors mended parts of her skull with a titanium plate. Unable to safely return to Pakistan, she started at a school in Birmingham in March. There she began a campaign against the Islamist Taliban efforts to deny women education. She succeeded in getting a petition signed by nearly 4 million people in support of 57 million children who are not able to go to school and demanding that world leaders fund new teachers, schools and books and end child labor and trafficking. And last week she presented the UN Secretary-General with that petition on a day designated as Malala day at the United Nations.

As if the facts of the story weren’t dramatic enough, Malala’s words at the occasion of the tribute paid to her were perhaps even more remarkable. From the lips of a 16 year old they carried the wisdom of the ages. But what was even more intriguing to me was the way in which they resonated with a Jewish idea so powerful that it is incorporated into the daily ritual practice of our faith.

“One child, one teacher, one pen and one book can change the world.”

Malala spoke of how the way of violence could not succeed. “They thought that the bullet would silence us. But they failed. And out of that silence came thousands of voices. The terrorists thought they would change my aims and stop my ambitions, but nothing changed in my life except this: weakness, fear, and hopelessness died. Strength, power, and courage was born.”

And then she concluded her plea for education for all with this message: "Let us pick up our books and pens. They are our most powerful weapons. One child, one teacher, one pen and one book can change the world.”

Books and pens are our most powerful weapons. Imagine those words spoken at the United Nations, meeting place of all those who deify might, who equate greatness with power.

Perhaps of all peoples on earth, the Jews, remarkably granted the title “People of the Book” by Mohammed, have throughout history been the ones most committed to the truth of this idea of the superiority of the word over the sword.

“If a drop of ink fell at the same time on your book and on your coat, clean first the book and then the garment.” “If you drop gold and books, pick up first the books and then the gold.” These are the instruction given in the classic 13th century work Sefer Hasidim, written by Yehudah HaHasid.

But the power of the pen has a more ancient biblical precedent. Every day, with the exception of the Sabbath and holidays, Jews are commanded to place tefillin, small boxes with parchments of Torah passages within them, on one of their arms and on their head. They are meant to symbolize the submission of our actions and intellect to the Almighty. But on which hand, right or left, is the tefillin box to be placed? The answer, as for so many things, is that it depends.

What the Torah chooses to emphasize is neither the right nor the left-hand specifically but rather the one which is weaker. Based on the special way the word is written in the Torah text as well as on the oral law commentary, we are taught that it all depends on whether one is right-handed or left-handed.

But what if someone is ambidextrous? The law needs to be specific. Which is the stronger and which is the weaker hand for someone who pursues his daily activities with both? The final decision of Jewish law is that the hand with which someone uses a pen to write is the stronger.

Proverbially, the idea has come down to us as “The pen is mightier than the sword.” Scholars have tried to pin down the source of this saying. Some attribute it to the 19th century Edward Bulwer-Lytton in his play Richelieu; Or the Conspiracy. Others see it as a play on the line Shakespeare gave to Rosencrantz in Hamlet, "... many wearing rapiers are afraid of goose-quills and dare scarce come thither." There is a shade of it in a letter Thomas Jefferson sent to Thomas Paine in 1796, in which he wrote: "Go on doing with your pen what in other times was done with the sword."

The hand that writes is more powerful than the one that relies on the power of the fist.

But to my mind the proverb gains its most powerful claim to legitimacy from its role in Jewish law. The hand that writes with the pen will in the long run always be more powerful than the one that relies on the power of the fist.

Weapons can kill a man but cannot bring about a change of heart. Ideas have a much larger impact than violence. Force is incapable of changing the ideas and beliefs of the people. Ideas are propagated by writing. No clash of arms could achieve what great men through their writings have accomplished.

The written word makes a permanent impact on future generations. The pen stands for positive and constructive efforts, while the sword signifies devastation and destruction. The sword forces into submission; the written word inspires into belief and devotion. . It is the power of the pen that has through the ages shaped human history.

And that is what Malala, in her courageous fight against the Taliban and terrorism, tried to teach the world. It is a truth that explains the inexplicable miracle of Jewish survival against all odds, bereft of power and might but blessed with the book and the word. It is a truth that has, in spite of all logic, proven to be the real source of power from the perspective of history. It is a truth that we Jews put to mind every day as we put on our tefillin on our weaker hand.

How remarkable that it is a truth now given voice by a courageous Pakistani at the United Nations. If only its message might be heard by all those within the building whose inscription comes from the prophet Isaiah and proclaims that a time will come when “Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn the art of war anymore.”

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About the Author

Rabbi Benjamin Blech, a frequent contributor to Aish, is a Professor of Talmud at Yeshiva University and an internationally recognized educator, religious leader, and lecturer. Author of 14 highly acclaimed books with combined sales of over a half million copies, his newest, The World From A Spiritual Perspective, is a collection of over 100 of his best Aish articles. See his website at www.benjaminblech.com.

Visitor Comments: 8

(8)
Raphaelle Do Lern Hwei,
September 2, 2013 2:10 PM

Malala should have read Johanna Spyri's books about Heidi

After watching AsiaNews new flashes just minutes ago on the war against extremists in Pakistan reminds me of Johanna Spyri's children's novel about the girl Heidi.The 'Alm Uncle', Heidi's grandfather was violently against her from attending school in the town at the foot of the mountains. Most of the mountain folks of the time did not want to attend school, like the goatherd Peter. Peter's blind grandmother hoped that he learnt to read enough so that he could read the Bible and prayers to her. Does that sound familiar?

(7)
Dvirah,
July 26, 2013 1:03 PM

Caveat

The downside of Rabbi Blech's very correct observation is that lies written down are also very powerful.

(6)
Mordechai Shuali,
July 26, 2013 5:02 AM

People of the Word (not the Book)

Ask most elementary school (Yeshiva, Bais Yaakov, Cheder, or Day School) student when is the yahrtzeit (the date of death) of the Aharon the High Priest (the brother of Moshe) and they will tell you they do not know. Ask the same young student when is Moshe's yahrtzeit and they will tell you 7 Adar. Aharon's death is recorded in the Bible. The date of Moshe's death is found only in the oral tradition.

We are, and have always been, the people of the word, not the book. Non-Jews have the Bible as well; originally given in 70 languages and translated into into Greek by 70 Torah scholars. From that time on, everyone had and read the Bible. But the vast wealth of oral tradition they never had, and it requires a Rebbe to learn it and it requires tireless work to attain its wisdom. HaKol kol Yaakov! The voice, the tongue, not the book. Perhaps Mohamud referred to us in that very way to deny our real importance and uniqueness. All the blessing the Torah has for us begins with "And if you will toil tirelessly in my oral laws." The covenant between the people of Israel and HaShem is "al pi ha'devarim ha'eileh" - By the mouth. It is through learning the Mishnah, the Talmud, and learning it with a Rebbe that makes us indeed more powerful than the sword.

The very tefillin you speak of proves this very nicely. The written scrolls contained in the two leather boxes which make the tefillin, were not written to be learned or even read. they remain tied up and sewn up in their boxes. Our relationship with these words is based on how we think about them and how we transmit them to future generations; "when you son will ask you . . . ".

(5)
Anonymous,
July 26, 2013 2:42 AM

appreciate the open-mindedness to learn the good stuff from whomever it may be

as above

(4)
Anonymous,
July 26, 2013 1:22 AM

Brave and Inspiring

May she stay safe and grow to be even more impressive and positively influential .

(3)
Gary Katz,
July 25, 2013 9:34 PM

Poetic justice?

I wish that someday Malala becomes President of Pakistan.

(2)
Akiva Godley-Davis,
July 25, 2013 7:59 PM

The Perfect Messenger

HaShem has provided this exquisite girl to shame the 'mighty and powerful' men (and a few women) of the UN. This slight young woman is willing to face down terrorists, who would deny the pen and the Book to others, with calm strength and courage. She appears to be about as perfect a messenger as one could imagine. Innocent, not physically strong, not a 'mouthpiece' for any group, not a Jew nor a Christian (likely a positive when dealing with the UN), clear-eyed, calm, determined and optimistic, hopeful and not vengeful. Surely a Woman of Valor.

(1)
Pesach,
July 25, 2013 4:01 PM

Yousafzai tribe

Not only Malala's ideas sound Jewishly but also her tribe's name Yousafzai mentioned as "Isapzais" by Alexander the Great as early as in 330 BC. Interesting to add, this tribe is related to Arbanee (Sarabanee, Rabanee) Pashtun supertribe.

I just got married and have an important question: Can we eat rice on Passover? My wife grew up eating it, and I did not. Is this just a matter of family tradition?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

The Torah instructs a Jew not to eat (or even possess) chametz all seven days of Passover (Exodus 13:3). "Chametz" is defined as any of the five grains (wheat, spelt, barley, oats, and rye) that came into contact with water for more than 18 minutes. Chametz is a serious Torah prohibition, and for that reason we take extra protective measures on Passover to prevent any mistakes.

Hence the category of food called "kitniyot" (sometimes referred to generically as "legumes"). This includes rice, corn, soy beans, string beans, peas, lentils, peanuts, mustard, sesame seeds and poppy seeds. Even though kitniyot cannot technically become chametz, Ashkenazi Jews do not eat them on Passover. Why?

Products of kitniyot often appear like chametz products. For example, it can be hard to distinguish between rice flour (kitniyot) and wheat flour (chametz). Also, chametz grains may become inadvertently mixed together with kitniyot. Therefore, to prevent confusion, all kitniyot were prohibited.

In Jewish law, there is one important distinction between chametz and kitniyot. During Passover, it is forbidden to even have chametz in one's possession (hence the custom of "selling chametz"). Whereas it is permitted to own kitniyot during Passover and even to use it - not for eating - but for things like baby powder which contains cornstarch. Similarly, someone who is sick is allowed to take medicine containing kitniyot.

What about derivatives of kitniyot - e.g. corn oil, peanut oil, etc? This is a difference of opinion. Many will use kitniyot-based oils on Passover, while others are strict and only use olive or walnut oil.

Finally, there is one product called "quinoa" (pronounced "ken-wah" or "kin-o-ah") that is permitted on Passover even for Ashkenazim. Although it resembles a grain, it is technically a grass, and was never included in the prohibition against kitniyot. It is prepared like rice and has a very high protein content. (It's excellent in "cholent" stew!) In the United States and elsewhere, mainstream kosher supervision agencies certify it "Kosher for Passover" -- look for the label.

Interestingly, the Sefardi Jewish community does not have a prohibition against kitniyot. This creates the strange situation, for example, where one family could be eating rice on Passover - when their neighbors will not. So am I going to guess here that you are Ashkenazi and your wife is Sefardi. Am I right?

Yahrtzeit of Rabbi Moses ben Nachman (1194-1270), known as Nachmanides, and by the acronym of his name, Ramban. Born in Spain, he was a physician by trade, but was best-known for authoring brilliant commentaries on the Bible, Talmud, and philosophy. In 1263, King James of Spain authorized a disputation (religious debate) between Nachmanides and a Jewish convert to Christianity, Pablo Christiani. Nachmanides reluctantly agreed to take part, only after being assured by the king that he would have full freedom of expression. Nachmanides won the debate, which earned the king's respect and a prize of 300 gold coins. But this incensed the Church: Nachmanides was charged with blasphemy and he was forced to flee Spain. So at age 72, Nachmanides moved to Jerusalem. He was struck by the desolation in the Holy City -- there were so few Jews that he could not even find a minyan to pray. Nachmanides immediately set about rebuilding the Jewish community. The Ramban Synagogue stands today in Jerusalem's Old City, a living testimony to his efforts.

It's easy to be intimidated by mean people. See through their mask. Underneath is an insecure and unhappy person. They are alienated from others because they are alienated from themselves.

Have compassion for them. Not pity, not condemning, not fear, but compassion. Feel for their suffering. Identify with their core humanity. You might be able to influence them for the good. You might not. Either way your compassion frees you from their destructiveness. And if you would like to help them change, compassion gives you a chance to succeed.

It is the nature of a person to be influenced by his fellows and comrades (Rambam, Hil. De'os 6:1).

We can never escape the influence of our environment. Our life-style impacts upon us and, as if by osmosis, penetrates our skin and becomes part of us.

Our environment today is thoroughly computerized. Computer intelligence is no longer a science-fiction fantasy, but an everyday occurrence. Some computers can even carry out complete interviews. The computer asks questions, receives answers, interprets these answers, and uses its newly acquired information to ask new questions.

Still, while computers may be able to think, they cannot feel. The uniqueness of human beings is therefore no longer in their intellect, but in their emotions.

We must be extremely careful not to allow ourselves to become human computers that are devoid of feelings. Our culture is in danger of losing this essential aspect of humanity, remaining only with intellect. Because we communicate so much with unfeeling computers, we are in danger of becoming disconnected from our own feelings and oblivious to the feelings of others.

As we check in at our jobs, and the computer on our desk greets us with, "Good morning, Mr. Smith. Today is Wednesday, and here is the agenda for today," let us remember that this machine may indeed be brilliant, but it cannot laugh or cry. It cannot be happy if we succeed, or sad if we fail.

Today I shall...

try to remain a human being in every way - by keeping in touch with my own feelings and being sensitive to the feelings of others.

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